|My Summer Night
Author: girlandbook PM
A sensory writing I had to write for my Creative Writing class. Based on a night or really mixture of summer nights. R&R please! :Rated: Fiction K - English - Words: 432 - Published: 09-19-09 - Status: Complete - id: 2722223
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
My Summer Night
It was late at night, sometime during July. The area was deathly quiet except for the chirping crickets and buzzing light. Then suddenly the quietness was engulfed by the crunch of gravel, blaring music, car doors slamming, and the laughter of people.
Everything echoed across the deserted beach. Nothing there except the lonesome volleyball court, a dock, and two wooden rafts in the still lake water.
We walked towards the sand, our voices echoing back and forth to us from across the beach. The late night cool against my hot salty skin. Tired but hyper that's how we felt. Ready for some volleyball that's what we thought.
The beach comes alive with our shouts and laughter. Ridiculous banter emits from our lips as the thump, slap, thump echoes from the volleyball.
Swoosh, the ball whispers as it flies through the subtly concealed hole centered in the net. Roars of anger reverberate from one side of the court as the opposite side cheers their point.
Hot. Tired. Throat burning. My arms are a raw red from the slap of the volleyball. My legs and feet are caked in sand from jumping for Wilson (the volleyball). My eyes water. They sting. They itch. Sand. Sand is the culprit. Boys kicking up sand into my eyes. Serving the ball overhand sends the sand into my eyes. Scratch, itch, blink. Scratch, itch, blink.
Tired and lagging behind, I stand and watch the game.
Smiles appear on their faces. Curse words slip from their lips. Shouts and laughter spill out of their mouths, pent up energy releasing. Ball missed. Two people fall to the ground.
"Lake?" Someone asks.
Suddenly a thumping of feet on the ground rebounds from the court. Boys running, kicking up sand in their wake. Water splashes, the poor lake has been disturbed.
I slowly walk the dock. The wooden dock, scratched and dented up in age, feels cold and wet beneath my feet. I sit, the cold dock against my warm legs sparks goosebumps up my arms.
The moon hanging high above me illuminating my view of the lake. I dip my feet into the cool water moving them back and forth.
I close my eyes, leaning back on my hands. With eyes closed I listen. The crickets chirping. My feet swaying back and forth in the rippling water. The boys at the raft yelling, laughing, splashing, and some more cursing. I sigh contently. Opening my eyes I think, this is summer.
Standing, I dive from the dock. Breaking the dark cool surface I shout,
"Wait for me!"